A Moment
by TheOceanBreathesSalty
Summary: Puck. Rachel. Sometimes things have to end before they can really begin. Twoshot, with a happy ending. Strong T for language and sexy times.
1. An Ending

_After all that we've been through, I know that I will always love you  
From now until forever baby, I can't imagine anything better  
After all that we've been through  
I know we'll make it after the wait  
The question is the truth  
There is nothing we can't do  
I'll see you along the way baby  
The stillness is the move  
Isn't life under the sun just a crazy, crazy, crazy dream?  
Isn't life just a mirage of the world, before the world, before the world?  
Why am I here and not over there?  
Where did time begin,  
Where does space end,  
Where do you and I begin?_

_**~Stillness is the Move, Dirty Projectors** _

* * *

**Every song has a coda, a final movement. Whether it fades out of crashes away. Every song ends. Is that any reason not to enjoy the music?**

* * *

(p u c k _pov_)

"Noah, don't you think that it's _slightly_ ridiculous that John Travolta is a woman in this movie? I mean, I know he is a talented actor, but there was nothing very _feminine_ about him." Rachel muses, her dark brown eyes quickly glancing up at you before she returns her attention to the movie.

You just hum in response, leaving the reply ambiguous enough that she can decide whether you were agreeing with her or not. You learned long ago that that was the easiest way to prevent arguments.

You're sitting on the couch in the Berry's living room, sliding your left hand through Rachel's silky hair. She's curled onto her side next to you, her head in your lap and your right hand resting on her hip. Her own hands are fisted underneath her chin, resting against your thigh. You can feel her breath through the denim of your jeans and every time you breathe, you inhale the scent of cherry blossoms from her hair.

And you have _no fucking clue_ how you got here.

You aren't sure how you ended up on this couch, how you ended up twining your fingers through Rachel's hair and slowly becoming addicted to the smell of cherry blossoms. You aren't sure how she talked you into watching a movie with Zac Efron in it and you don't know where her fathers are.

What you do know?

You _should not_ be here.

Lauren will probably castrate you if she ever finds out and you were _just_ getting back to being best friends with Finn again. And this'll totally fuck that up, 'cause the dude's _always_ going to think that Rachel is his.

Something else you know?

There's no chance in hell you're leaving.

* * *

Maybe it's not that surprising you're here.

It's not like you've ever hated Rachel Berry or anything. Sure, you teased her and threw slushies at her, but that wasn't because you despised her or whatever. The simple fact is that she was an easy target and you were a jackass. There was really nothing more to it.

So it wasn't _that_ weird when you dated her for all of, like, five seconds. If she had let you touch her boobs, that relationship _totally_ would have lasted longer than it did.

She wouldn't have been able to get enough of you.

And she _definitely _wouldn't have dumped your pathetic ass on those fucking bleachers.

But, the point is, she didn't let you and the relationship ended.

And some crazy pseudo friendship formed. It was the kind of friendship that involved silent understandings and hanging out at temple, nothing big. She made you learn shit like the word _pseudo_ and you _totally_ got her to admit Finn was a douche.

Not that you cared if she thought he was a douche.

It was just nice to know, all right?

So, you and Rachel hanging out, it's not that strange.

The strange part would probably be how fucking _distracting_ you're finding her warm breath on your thigh is, how you can't help but notice that your hand fits just about _perfectly_ in the dip between her ribs and her hips.

The entire time you've been here, the two of you have been getting steadily closer. You started out on opposite sides of the couch, then she was resting her head on your shoulder. And then, somehow, you ended up like _this_.

And she just moved her fingers out of their tiny little fists to curl around your upper thigh.

You're about to _lose your shit_.

And that isn't fucking okay when you're dating Lauren and she's pining or what_thefuck_ever after Finn.

* * *

The two of you are mostly silent for the remainder of the movie, Rachel making comments every once in a while and you speaking up once to make some comment about that hot cougar mom.

Rachel orders Chinese, she knows your favorite without having to ask and, yeah, that makes your stomach twist in a not entirely unpleasant way. You eat on the floor of her living room, her legs draped over yours as you stare hungrily at the chow mien she ordered.

She giggles when she notices your stare and feeds you some.

Her eyes darken when you wrap your lips around the end of her fork and _fuck it_ but you're actually going to be the one to start a conversation about feelings and shit.

"Berry, not that this hasn't been fun, but what the fuck am I doing here?" you finally ask once you've finished eating and Rachel's put the leftovers in the fridge.

"It's not like I _asked_ you to come, Noah," she responds, primly sitting on the edge of a chair on the other side of the room. You aren't sure _what_ the fact that the two of you aren't in contact for the first time in hours has to do with anything, but it's making you slightly uncomfortable.

And _seriously_? She didn't _ask_ you to come?

Fuck that noise.

"Excuse me? 'Cause, 'Hey, Noah, want to come over to my place tonight and watch movies?' sure _sounds_ like you _asking me over_," you say the last three words in a mockingly high voice and she narrows her eyes at you.

When she crosses her arms over her chest and huffs, it takes everything you have to not smirk wickedly.

Because _fuck_ this girl is hot when she's pissed.

"Are you _mocking me_?" she questions, her voice much higher than it was a few seconds ago. You just chuckle at her and lean back, comfortably lounging on the couch.

Her eyes dart to the exposed skin on your hip from where you shirt rode up when you slid down on the couch and when her gaze once again meets yours, the already dark brown is almost black.

And things just got _so much_ more interesting.

* * *

The two of you sit there, in freaking silence, for the next _two_ hours.

At one point, you almost speak. You open your mouth to ask where her dads are, seeing as how it's almost eight and neither one are home. But just as you're about to say something, you notice the smug smile beginning to curl her lips and you close your mouth, clenching your jaw.

You _will not_ be the one to talk first.

About four minutes after the two-hour mark, and she breaks.

Honestly, you're kind of surprised that she managed to stay silent for as long as she did. You may not have any issue with the girl, and you may also think she's _smokin'_ hot, but you honestly can't remember a time you've been around her and she hasn't been talking.

But, in counter to that, you aren't exactly known for your patience.

So you're pretty damn proud that she spoke before you.

"I didn't ask you to sleep with me just because I wanted to get back at Finn," she blurts, the words coming out in a continuous rush that takes you a few minutes to decipher.

When you finally comprehend what the _fuck_ she just said, your brain pretty much stops working. At all. "The fuck, Berry?" is all you can manage to get out, shifting from your relaxed position so that you're sitting up on the couch.

"I didn't ask you to sleep with me just because of Finn," she repeats, her words slower this time.

"Yeah, I fuckin' got that part. I was more questioning why the _hell_ you said it," you return, your voice growing progressively louder the calmer she looks.

"Well, I couldn't sleep last night and, as I _never_ miss my eight hours, it was very distressing to my schedule. And, while I was lying awake, I started to think about all the reasons that I _did_ ask you to sleep with me and, I have come to the realization, that none of those reasons have really _changed_," she says, her tone very matter of fact.

You almost swallow your tongue and start choking because _Rachel Berry_ just said that she couldn't fall asleep because she couldn't stop thinking about _you fucking her_. You lock your eyes on hers while you try to catch your breath, all sorts of unspoken questions dancing around your mind.

"It's, mainly, that I trust you. I trust you to not make fun of me afterwards, at least not to _mean_ it when you're making fun of me. I trust you to tell me if what I'm doing is wrong or unattractive. And, most of all, I trust you to make it good for me," she says without prompting and you can't stop yourself from thinking about how amazing it is that this girl knows you well enough that she can answer questions you haven't even asked.

And then you register the last sentence and start choking again.

* * *

It takes you all of three seconds to make your decision.

You _know_ that you're dating Lauren and that this is a _total_ douche move.

You're well aware of that fact, okay?

But it's _Rachel_ and she's pretty much offering herself up to you on a silver platter.

You do _not_ have the fucking self control to turn that offer down.

"I'm not asking for a relationship, Noah," Rachel starts speaking again, "it's just that this whole _virgin_ thing, I want it to be _done with_. I wanted to wait when I was with Jesse; I wanted to wait for true love, for Finn. But Finn slept with Santana and if he's not going to wait, there's no reason for me to. It's just that _losing my virginity_ is this pretty huge deal, you know? And I just want it out of the way, I just want it _gone_. I've been feeling this way since _Christmas_ and I'm really, really tired of not doing anything about it."

You stand, still not responding, and grab her hand, pulling her up with you. Her body is about a millimeter away from yours and you can _feel_ her heat, it's _so fucking close_, she's so fucking close, and you want her _closer_.

_Now_.

You yank her up against your body, pressing your lips to hers harshly. You can't find it within yourself to be gentle with her, you're honestly rather pissed off that she put you in this situation at all.

You're more pissed that you can't say no to her.

She kisses back without hesitation, the two of you slowly stumbling up the stairs while she tugs on your shirt and you bite her neck.

Her bedroom's different than the last time you were in there, but you can't figure out why before she's pushing you back on the bed, her lips once again attached to yours.

"_Shit_, Rachel," you pant out as she unzips your jeans, "are you sure you wanna do this? 'Cause, this shit, it's important to some people and _fuck_ I'm not exactly a stand-up guy and _Jesus_," you hiss when she shoves your pants on to the floor, her lips running over your exposed collarbone. "It's only for a night, Rach," you finally manage to choke out.

She pulls back and a low whine escapes your throat before you can stop it. You curse quietly again as she looks at you.

You're _sure_ this is the part where she says you're right, calls you an asshole or a bad singer or something, and kicks you out.

Instead, she presses a tender kiss against your lips.

"Noah," she breathes out, her eyes still locked on yours, "the fact that you care enough to ask proves that you're not all that awful of a guy. And _yes_ I'm sure, all right? Even if it's only a moment in time, even if _we're_ only a moment in time, I still want to enjoy it to its fullest."

Good enough for you.

* * *

You wake up before she does and spend an embarrassing amount of time tracing her figure with your eyes.

You aren't sure how this one night thing is gonna go down.

Honestly, you've _never_ experienced anything like that and you have _no fucking clue_ how you're going to be able to _look_ at her now. Every time you glance at her, how are you not supposed to think about the way her hips fit against yours? How she smells like cherry blossoms but tastes like honey, the way she breathes your name like a fucking prayer when you're inside her?

You're afraid you won't be able to forget that shit.

So you slip away from her, trying to not allow your eyes to linger on her figure for any more time.

It's when you get up that you realize what's different about her room.

There's no trace of _anyone_ anywhere. She used to have pictures of Finn, ticket stubs from things she did with some of the Gleeks, mementos of her time with Jesse. Now there's _nothing_. She's taken down all the pictures and you don't see anything that relates to anybody that she knows, not even her dads.

You press a sad kiss to her soft cheek and leave while her eyes are still fluttering open.

* * *

Three weeks later, you aren't surprised when Schue announces that Rachel Berry won't be coming back to Glee.

She won't be coming back to McKinley at all.

According to her fathers, or at least the note she left for them, she saw no point in staying to be around people that hated her. She was in New York City now, and the city was just big enough that they weren't ever going to find her.

Schue pulls you aside as the shocked group of Glee kids shuffle from the room, their eyes full of questions that no one will ever be able to answer. Did what they say really effect her that much? Did they really hurt her that bad? _Is it their fault she's gone_?

He hands you a note and says that it was left with the one her fathers got. You ignore the unspoken question of why _you_ got a letter and not Finn or Mercedes or Kurt.

You open it on your way to the parking lot, Lauren waiting by your truck when you open the front doors.

You glance down at the note.

_Every night will eventually end, Noah. Is that really an excuse not to enjoy it while it's happening?_

And then, in smaller letters underneath; _I really enjoyed that night._

She didn't sign her name, but there's a gold star sticker and a tiny heart drawn in red ink.

You fold up the note and tuck into your wallet behind the picture of you, Finn, and Rachel at the second round of Sectionals.

You try to ignore the way your mouth still tastes like honey and the way you flinch whenever you think you smell cherry blossoms.

It was just a moment.

_They_ were just a moment.

* * *

Yayy my first Puckleberry. Someone requested it, but I honestly can't remember who. Sorry if anyone feels Rachel, or Puck, is OOC, but I really don't think they were. I watched the Pilot and then I watched Original Songs and their characters have changed so freaking much. I don't know if you guys will agree, but I can really see Rachel getting fed up with everything and going somewhere her talent would be appreciated. And I can see her not wanting to have any regrets when she leaves. In my mind, at least, leaving Puck without anything would be a regret.

But anyways.

I don't own Glee or Stillness is the move.

If enough people want it, I may make this a twoshot with another chapter in Rachel's POV. It's up to you guys.

As always, review pretty please? And thanks for reading.


	2. A Beginning

_There may not be another way to your heart  
So I guess I'd better find a new way in  
I shiver when I hear your name  
Think about you but it's not the same  
I won't be satisfied until I'm under your skin  
Immobilized by the thought of you  
Paralyzed by the sight of you  
Hypnotized by the words you say  
Not true but I belive 'em anyway  
So come to bed, it's getting late  
There's no more time for us to waste  
Remember how my body tastes  
You feel your heart begin to race_

_**~Shiver, Maroon 5** _

* * *

**Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.**

* * *

Eight Years Later

* * *

You've had absolutely no contact with _anyone_ from Lima, Ohio, for eight years now. You had sent your fathers cards on their birthdays, but never with a return address and always from the other side of town, just in case. Once, you sent Kurt and Blaine a postcard and asked them to say hello to Mercedes for you.

Those were the only people that you even kind of missed though.

_Really_.

Just them.

You hadn't thought about anyone else.

Except, maybe, just every once in a while, you wonder how Noah is. If he's dating someone, where he went to college, if he kept playing the guitar. Sometimes you remember him when you smell cloves or apples and occasionally you taste cinnamon for absolutely no reason at all.

It's not because that's what he tasted like.

It _isn't_.

Really, the only time you think about him is when your cell phone rings. And that's only because you're ring tone happens to be Sweet Caroline. But it's not like you _searched_ for that song, all right? It was just _right there_ in front of you and you've always liked it.

And _no_ you don't experience a slight pang of disappointment when it's Neil Diamond's voice coming from the tiny speakers on your phone and not _his_.

But everything's about to change.

Because you just got your dream role on Broadway, a role that will make you a household name, that will make you _famous_.

You just got the role of Maria.

And there's no way you'll be able to keep _that_ quiet.

It's being announced tomorrow morning.

You expect Gleeks and Glocks and fathers to descend the next day.

* * *

Surprisingly, your dads aren't the first to show up. It's Brittany and Mike and Artie that find you at the coffee shop across the street from where rehearsals are being held. You're walking towards the counter when a blonde blur pretty much side tackles you. You lie dazed on the ground while Brittany squirms happily on top of you, her smile so wide it almost hurts your cheeks.

"Rae!" she practically shouts, "I thought that _aliens_ had taken you! I'm so glad you're not being probed!"

You start giggling rather maniacally.

It was hard, when you left. Honestly, by the time you finally had everything in order to leave for New York a few years ahead of schedule, you weren't _that_ hated. Not like you were at the beginning of Glee, anyways.

You were friends with Kurt and Blaine, Mercedes and Tina. Brittany and Artie and Sam and Mike all smiled and waved when they saw you and you had _something_ with Noah. Even when you and Finn weren't together, you cared for him. Even Quinn and Santana _tolerated_ you.

But you still had to leave.

Lima was slowly but surely killing every ounce of spirit you had.

So you packed your bags and snuck out with no regrets.

There's no denying that you were excited to see everyone again though.

You weren't expecting _everyone_ to show up to see you, but, well, you wouldn't be all that surprised if they did. Leaving the way that you did, dramatic and properly _Rachel Berry-esque_ insured that they weren't going to forget you any time soon.

So once there was a way to find you, once you were named _Maria_, there was no doubt in your mind that they would come. Some as friends, some as curious acquaintances, and others as, well, you weren't sure _what_ Noah would be coming as.

If he came at all.

Which you _totally_ didn't care about, by the way.

A laughing Mike yanks Brittany off you and she bounces over to stand behind Artie, her face still covered with that wide grin. You grab Mike's extended hand and he helps you up, pulling you into a tight hug as soon as you're off the ground. He releases you and shoves you backwards gently and you're still giggling when you land on Artie's lap and he pops a wheelie.

You hadn't realized how much you missed these people until they were here again.

You spend the rest of the day with the three of them, catching up and telling jokes and laughing with one another. Mike and Brittany still randomly start to dance and Artie still has that adorable smile of his and the familiarity of it all is surprisingly nice. You show them all your favorite places in New York, well the ones you have time for, and exchange phone numbers.

They promise to be there opening night.

You promise there'll be free tickets waiting.

* * *

The next day, you finish rehearsal and walk out the doors to see your fathers. Dad, the short one, is crying silently and daddy, the tall one, is glaring at all the people that walk by and look at him curiously.

As soon as they see you, you're being hugged again and you're starting to think that all the love is going to break your ribs.

Then daddy whispers, "We _missed_ you, Star," into your ear and you start sobbing along with your dad.

Maybe you shouldn't have left them the way that you did.

But they _never_ would've let you leave. And you _needed_ to leave. If you hadn't, you would probably be preparing to work as a teacher in some small town, in an annoying school where kids throw frozen drinks at each other and shove geeks into their lockers.

You simply _could not_ live that life.

So you ran.

And you had to leave your fathers behind.

They spend the rest of the weekend with you, rearranging your living room and sniffling every time they saw a picture of you with one of the numerous friends you had made living here. Dad full on bawls when he sees the diploma from Julliard, the GED you got right before you ran tucked neatly behind it.

Daddy cooks so much food that you're going to have to give some of it away or it'll go to waste. They never bring up how much you hurt them and you never apologize.

Empty apologies are worse than none at all.

They type their numbers into your cell phone and copy down your address in three separate places before leaving. The entire time their getting ready to leave their apologizing that the visit was so short and complaining about work. You just roll your eyes and tell them you're not going anywhere.

Dad bursts into tears again and daddy hugs you so tight you can't breathe.

* * *

The next visit comes three days later.

You open the front door to find two blondes standing there, their eyes wide and their fingers twined. Sam's hand is raised, about to knock, and Quinn is shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

The two of them stare at you in silence for a while. You stare back.

"Britt gave us your address! She wasn't sure which days you rehearsed and she didn't know if we'd be able to find you and, yeah," Sam suddenly blurts out, the words coming in a rush. You giggle and give him a gentle hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Then you smile at Quinn and wiggle your eyebrows as her when you catch sight of the large diamond on her left ring finger.

"We got back together after graduation," she murmurs, glancing behind you. You roll your eyes at the blatant curiosity and allow them inside. She tells you the story of them getting back together and then engaged and then married while they poke around your apartment.

"We wanted to invite you, Rae," Sam says from where he's inspecting your photo album, "but no one knew if you were, like, alive, let alone where you were."

You just smile at him sheepishly, the hard look in his eyes softening at your grin. He scoffs and leaves off scolding you, going back to your photos.

Quinn's eyes meet yours in silent understanding.

She doesn't have to ask why you left and you don't have to ask why she didn't.

You stand with a million watt smile and ask what kind of food their in the mood for. When you say that pretty much everything you could think of is in walking distance, Sam's eyes light up and Quinn giggles, reaching out and grabbing his hand while the three of you walk out of the apartment.

Before they leave that night, Quinn gives you an awkward half-hug and Sam enthusiastically spins you around, setting you back down to tell you that there better be tickets waiting for them along with Britt's, Mike's, and Artie's. You can't help the laughter that spills from your mouth when he adds the _or else_.

They leave; bright smiles on their faces and your phone number written half on Sam's hand, half on Quinn's.

You hadn't been able to resist when they wouldn't stop holding hands at the restaurant.

* * *

Mercedes, Kurt, and Blaine show up next and you can't stop yourself.

"Are you guys working in shifts?" you ask before they can even hug you. Mercedes and Kurt gawp at you from your doorway while Blaine breaks out in a large grin and twirls you around.

Once he puts you down, Mercedes hugs you quickly and then the two of them move off to the side.

Kurt steps forward, glares at you, pulls you in for an impossibly tight hug and then shoves you backwards, keeping his hands on your shoulders while he scolds you. He lectures you for no less than ten minutes and it doesn't matter how much you whine or pout or glare, he won't stop.

Finally, he glares one last time and then wraps you up in another hug.

"I _demand_ that I see your rehearsal space. _Now_, Diva," he says when he pulls back. You chuckle while you link arms with Mercedes, pulling her out the door and locking it behind Kurt and Blaine. You raise your eyebrow at Mercedes when you see the boys' laced fingers and she grins wickedly before leaning in and whispering all the gossip you missed out on in your ear.

Kurt and Mercedes are in awe up on the stage, messing around with one another and trying to 'out-diva' each other. You sit with Blaine in the stands, chatting amaiably while the other two play on the stage.

"He really missed you Rae," Blaine finally whispers, wrapping a warm arm around your shoulders, "we both did."

You lean further into his body and promise to never do it again.

He smirks and holds up his pinky. You lock yours around his without question, the two of you dissolving into laughter when you hear Kurt's voice from the stage.

"Diva! Stop trying to steal my man! Once was enough, _thank you_ very much!"

* * *

Mercedes leaves that night, not without extracting yet another free ticket promise, but Kurt and Blaine take over your living room for the next week. They only leave once a surly Finn is sitting across the hall, staring sullenly at your door.

You promise Kurt that you'll be on the lookout for a place for the two of them to live as they were planning on moving to New York as soon as possible. You press a kiss to Blaine's cheek, ushering them out the door and promising them tickets as well.

You really hope the director will actually allow you to have all those free tickets.

Finn stands without a word and walks into your apartment, glaring at one of the photos that has you and two guys friends in it. They're pretty much wrapped around you, which you assume is the cause of the glaring, but they're also totally gay. However, that's none of his business so you just let him keep glaring.

"How, how could you just… leave? Without even a _goodbye_?" he demands, turning to face you.

"I was _drowning_, Finn," is all you have to say.

Maybe the two of you didn't have the best relationship, but you always understood each other when it was important. It didn't always matter that he didn't listen to you because he still understood what you meant for the significant things. You're incredibly grateful for that skill right now.

He just shakes his head as the anger melts away, reaching out and grabbing your hand, the move easy and comfortable.

You grin at the complete lack of post break-up awkwardness or lingering-feelings sparks as he drags you downstairs, explaining that Schue was waiting in the café down the street with Tina and Santana.

When you get there, Mr. Schuster hugs you and tells you how proud he is. Tina smiles and embraces you, quickly pulling you down into the empty seat next to her. Finn sits on your other side while Santana hurriedly explains that Brittany _made_ her come.

You just smirk back at her and nod, turning to Mr. Schuster and starting up a conversation about Glee.

When they're leaving and you're, once again, promising that there'll be tickets waiting on opening night, Mr. Schuster asks if he can have and extra for his wife Emma.

You laugh and hug him again, telling him congratulations.

Finn hands you your phone back, now with his and Tina's numbers inputed.

"This time, we'll totally find you if you disappear again, Rach. I took a, like, CSI course in college and _everything_," Finn says as they're leaving, that goofy grin you used to melt over plastered on his face.

* * *

You _aren't_ disappointed that Noah doesn't show up and you don't care that no one mentioned him. After all, why _would_ they tell you about him? It's not like anyone knows that he took your virginity and you haven't felt like that with a man since.

But whatever.

It's _not a big deal_ that he never shows up on your doorstep like every other person from Ohio did.

And, if you happen to tell your director that you need sixteen tickets instead of fifteen, it's just in case someone wants to bring a friend.

It's not because you're hoping he'll show up.

_It isn't_.

* * *

Rehearsals pass in a blur and, before you know it, it's opening night.

The Glee Club and your fathers are the first to stand when you come out after the show to bow, clapping and screaming so loudly you actually fear for their vocal chords.

You try to ignore the empty seat at the end of the row.

When you come out from backstage, there's a mess of hugs and tears as pretty much _everyone_ attempts to squeeze you until your ribs snap. Even Santana and Quinn hug you, quickly, but still.

They insist on everyone eating together before the night ends and everyone has to go back to their own lives. You end up sandwiched between Blaine and Kurt, Brittany and Finn across from you. The table is full of laughter, everyone congratulating you and sighing over your performance, your dads and Mr. Schuster whispering how_ proud_ they are of you. Your phone is lighting up with text messages from all your New York friends and you cast mates and Blaine and Kurt are trying to convince you to move into the open apartment across from the one that they found.

Life is _so close_ to perfect.

You try to not think too hard about what that last missing piece is.

* * *

It's a few weeks after your first show and your life has finally settle into a comfortable routine.

You eat lunch with Blaine on Mondays and Wednesdays, Kurt with Tuesdays and Thursdays, and both of them on Fridays. You go out to breakfast with your New York friends as often as you can, dinner with your cast mates after most of the shows. You talk to your fathers on the phone at least once a week and keep in touch with Mr. Schuster through email. Brittany and Finn text you the most, completely random things that are more than likely to cause you to break down into giggles. You keep up with Mercedes mostly through Kurt and you've even texted Sam and Mike and Artie a few times.

Things are good.

Then, on your day off, you walk into your favorite coffee shop, the one where Britt and Mike and Artie found you, and bump into someone that smells like apples and cloves.

He catches you easily, his arms sliding around your waist casually, like he does it every day.

They still fit perfectly.

You're trying not to blush as you back away and look up at him, his hazel eyes more green than brown. You know they only get that way when he's nervous or excited and you can't help but wonder which one he is currently. They also get _really_ green when he's turned on, but you aren't supposed to be focusing on that.

Before you can say anything, your phone begins to ring.

_Where it began, I can't begin to knowin', but then I know it's growin' strong._

A slow smirk curls his lips as he stares down at you, his eyes suddenly a lot greener.

"Hello, Noah," you finally greet, still close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body seeping through your clothes.

"Hey, Crazy Girl," he mutters back, his voice surprisingly fond. "You live around here?"

You lead him back to your apartment without question.

* * *

His lips are on yours before you can even get the door open, that same _delicious_ fire spreading through you as cinnamon coats your tongue.

The two of you stumble through the door and he kicks it shut behind him, reaching back to lock it before allowing you to lead him down the hallway.

Now, you _are_ aware that sleeping with a man that you haven't seen in eight years isn't exactly_ proper_ behavior.

But then again, it wasn't proper behavior the first time you had sex with him either.

Your musings are cut short when you feel his hot breath against your ear, his hands unbuttoning your jeans while your own fingers fist in his shirt. "I missed you, Rachel."

You drag his mouth back to yours and forget how to think.

You're lying next to him on your bed, curled on your side with your head on his chest and his fingers weaving through your hair. "We will have to talk about this in the morning, Noah," you whisper, unwilling to completely break the comfortable silence.

"Sure babe. But there's really only _one_ thing we need to talk about right now," he murmurs back, pulling you closer against him.

"Oh really? What's that?" you ask, lifting your head and resting your chin in the middle of his chest so you can meet his eyes. He runs a hand down your spine and you shudder, his eyes suddenly dark green again.

He clears his throat and smiles at you, surprisingly shy. "Well, I kinda need a place to stay. I'm likin' NYC so far, Rach. Don't really feel like leavin'." His hand runs over his head as he speaks and you take a moment to miss his Mohawk before you respond.

"Well, I do have some extra space…" you trail off and his grin widens before he flips you over, tickling you until you're breathless.

His eyes meet yours and your suddenly breathless for a whole other reason.

He kisses you again, sweet and languid and warm. His hand slips down your side and you moan, his other hand cupping your jaw.

You've missed this man.

* * *

You wake up in the morning all tangled up in him, his limbs intertwined with each one of yours. He's already awake, looking at you with a gentle smile on his face. He shifts so that the two of you are face to face, buried under your covers with your hands laced and your noses touching.

"I want a lot of moments with you, Rachel," he whispers, his eyes unusually soft.

"I'm looking forward to a lot of nights with you, Noah," you return, your heart beating too quickly as that last piece falls into place.

You're both smiling so widely when he brings his lips to yours that you can't properly kiss.

As bright, warm laughter bubbles out of your throat and his eyes begin to sparkle, you decide you don't really care.

You can always kiss later.

* * *

Happy ending, for all those romantics that reviewed : )

I hope everyone liked it! I'm pretty sure I'm done with it now. I don't think there's anything else to add. Sorry that there wasn't all that much Puck interaction, but they ended up together! So, that makes up for it?

I don't own Glee or Maroon 5's Shiver.

Please review? I'm hoping to reach 30. I think that'd be pretty freaking awesome.


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